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Dion O’Reilly: Ringo Starr
You weren’t the one I loved. I must confess:
I didn’t have the depth yet. It was Paul, of course—
his droopy eyes and putty lips,
babylike, unthreatening, despite the then-
brutal sexiness of the songs. When
I thought I’d grown up, I loved
John, genius rebel, loved
how dismissive he was, naked
with his thick-haired wife for weeks,
legs and arms wrapped ‘round her,
posed for Leibovitz like a suckling pig.
I loved how he’d make a scene, but when
I’d busted through my anger, thought I’d found
something like a third eye, it was George
the soulful one, I adored,
the one whose guitar gently wept…
Oh, the many faces of a false god, fragments
of a false self, everything I craved:
Paul, pretty. John, smart. George, the Seeker.
Ovid said, The cause is hidden. The effect is visible…
So now, Ringo, you’re lookin’ better—
sticks as quick as a sylph’s flickering wings, invisible,
till we wake up to the impossible
source of it all, not you, of course, but you were closest—
off-beat mystery I barely noticed, inverse glamor,
southpaw of darkness in a right-hand world,
alive with a trick rhythm—you did your best
with the kit you were given.
So now, when I hear your lacy pattern
bring “Come Together” together,
those other sweet boys—
they’re waves,
but you— you’re the ocean under.
~~~~
Copyright Dion O’Reilly. Originally published in Atlanta Review.
Dion O’Reilly’s books include Limerance (Floating Bridge Press, 2025). She splits her time between a ranch in the Santa Cruz Mountains and a residence in Bellingham, Washington.
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Pure delight and a lot of “me too” nodding as I read the poem. I’m so glad I’m not the only one that crushed on Paul, first, then, exactly as in this delightedly nostalgic poem, all the way to the “southpaw of darkness”! I’m forwarding this to a handful of friends who will love it — as much as I do.
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Thanks, Laure-Anne!
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Thanks Laure-Ann. So appreciated it!
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thanks
“And yet it does turn!” Galileo Galilei (1564-1642)
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Perfect, Majid!
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Sometimes our fourth choice beats out the rest.
Oh, “southpaw of darkness,” your effect was audible like the ocean’s surge. You helped the Drumless Three converge.
And this poem rocks, as Jeffrey Harrison says. Dion is a rock starr for sure.
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The Drumless Three. Great phrase.
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I wish I could literally rock, but this is as close as i can get. THANKS!!! 🙂
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Love You helped the Drumless Three converge.
!!!
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I meant Beatles, not beetles, of course.
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I enjoyed this poem. I’m such an old fart that I resented the British Invasion, and especially the skiffle-band *cum *bubble gum of the earliest beetles (the sheer monotony, say, of “Love Me Do” (though I gave the Fab Four the edge , to be sure, over, say, Herman’s Hermits or Gerry and the Pacemakers).
I have mellowed quite a bit, though I’d still rather hear one of the Temptations’ biggies than all the Beatles’ repertoire. But I did recognize early on that, in terms of pure musicianship, Ringo was the standout.
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In 5th grade, my friends and I performed a skit for the school. We impersonated the Beatles, lip syncing I Wanna Hold Your Hand. I was Ringo.
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That’s my dream but it would be “All my Lovin.”
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Down in Houston, my high school had a mock election in 1964: the Beach Boys vs. the Beatles. Beatles won in a landslide, despite our faux surfer-dudes trying mightily to swing the vote.
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Your high school made a wise choice.
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They grow on you!
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I have a Brit friend— 76 years old—who hates the Beatles, calls them a boy band.
I’m sending this to him.
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Great artists need their detractors.
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Yay! AND Ringo IS the nicest and funniest!
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Oh, yes, love this poem.
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I’d list (if I had a list) Dion O’Reilly among my favorite poets. Authentic, gutsy, often humorous, and, as in this poem, soaring.
Robert Stewart
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Oh yes. Dion is a brave explorer…
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Thanks Robert!!! All my best to you!
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Such music in this poem! (Carla Schwartz)
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Oh yes!
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This poem rocks!—”sticks as quick as a sylph’s flickering wings, invisible”!
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Oh yes, Dion’s poems are an American treasure.
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